Beneath the Streets
by BlueLunacy7
Summary: Re-write of 'In the Sewers of New York'.  No cars chose Sam to be its driver at Bolivia's. An older Sam moves to New York and gains strange new allies. His destiny finally arrives in the form of a yellow camaro. Better late than never.


Title: Beneath the Streets

Author: BlueLunacy7

Chapter Warnings: Violence

Pairings: Eventual Sam and Donnie. Future Sam/Donnie/Bee

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or TMNT, any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form. Basically, nothing you recognize is mine.

Author notes: Re-write of '_In the Sewers of New York', a _crossover between TMNT with my transformer AU fic '_Owls and Larks_'_._ What can I say? _Dark of the Moon_ gave me some new ideas.

Longer summary: The car Sam got as a teen didn't do anything except fall apart once he drove it off the lot and screw him out of four thousand dollars. An older Sam moves to New York and gains strange new allies. His destiny finally arrives in the form of a yellow camaro. Better late than never.

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**Chapter One: Shadows**

If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it. -Mary Engelbreit

Sam was in trouble but lately, he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble.

This time at least it wasn't his _all_ fault, though he sould have known better than to wander around this city at night. But who would have expected a chupacabra in freakin' New York of all places, especially one of _that_ size? Naturally, he had to take care of the stupid thing before it captured because the last thing anyone needed was for the scientific community to get a hold of a real live cryptid. Then there'd be even more lunatics getting their own TV shows like that Dr. Finn woman, only they would probably be more competent than she was.

The reason the chupacabra had gotten so big was that it was munching on homeless people and now thought of the human population as a food group. Since it wouldn't go back to eating goats, it had to be destroyed. Sam had felt guilty about having to kill the thing; it was obvious the only choice it had was either human blood or starvation. However, those remorseful feelings vanished quickly when the stupid thing thought Sam would make a tasty snack, clawing his sides and sinking its long, jagged teeth into his shoulder. He had responded by snapping its neck and then disposing of the body in one the near by dumpers. With the way Sanitation worked, it would be weeks before that dumper was emptied and by that time, the corpse would be buried under enough garbage no one would see it.

As it turned out, chupacabra saliva had anticoagulant to keep the blood form clotting, so his bleeding shoulder wasn't healing as it should. It didn't help that he healed slower in his human form anyway. With one hand under his jacket trying to stop the worse of the blood flow, he began his walk home. He wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death anytime soon, as he would have been if he were fully human. However, he was starting to feel a bit lightheaded. His plan was to go back to the apartment and see if the wound needed any medical treatment, a plan that was derailed when he ran into some guys robbing a van.

"Oh, come on!" Sam groaned under his breath, seeing the insignia for the Purple Dragons, "Really?"

"Bad timing." One the Purple Dragons comment smiling nastily.

"Ain't that story of my life?" Sam quipped, backing away, "Look if anyone asks, I didn't see anything." This was a lie, of course; as soon as he got out of here, he was calling the cops.

"Well, we'll make sure of that." Smiley Dragon replied as he picked up a heavy chain,

"Cut me a break here guys, I don't want to fight." Sam tried, even knowing it was useless. Smiley Dragon's body language was all but screamed that he was looking for someone to beat up and wouldn't back down in front of his posse.

'_At least these idiots aren't carrying guns.'_ Bullets were such a pain the dig out. Sam removed his hand from the wound so it would be free to fight.

"Guys, he's bleeding," A thin red head pointed out, eyes glued to Sam's bloody hand, "maybe we should leave him alone."

"What's a matter Danny?" One of the others mocked, "You scared of a little blood?"

'_They're definitely not backing down now.'_ Sam groaned mentally. He was tired, hungry and sore, this sucked beyond belief, _'Bullying instincts meets mob mentality, lovely.'_

The whole problem was not only did these morons thought he was an easy target because he was hurt; their pride wouldn't let them back down. Sam could understand that, it was the reason he hadn't called his roommate Miko for a ride since it would've been blow to his male pride for her to see him all bloody. _'Now look where I'm at. Pride goes before destruction and all that crap.'_

However, they didn't know that even with his injured shoulder and the fact he was out numbered, if it came down to a fight, Sam probably would win, simply for the fact he was stronger and had no problem fighting dirty. Nevertheless, fighting would aggravate his wounds from the chupacabra and make his shoulder hurt even worse. The only method he had that would let him walk away from this would be to transform and send these idiots running for the hills in utter terror.

On the other hand, given his luck tonight, that would be the time a news crew would show up and not only get pictures but video of him as well.

'_I can see it now: Dragons in New York! News at eleven!'_

"Get him!" Just as they all rushed him the streetlight above shattered, flaring brightly before going dark. Temporarily blinded by the flash of light, the only thing Sam could see was darkness and floating afterimages. There was nothing wrong with rest of his senses however. Sound of fighting came from the darkness, shuffling of feet and heavy thumps of struck flesh followed by grunts and groans of pain. Needing to see what was going on, he felt his eyes change as his surrounding slowly lighten from pitch black to a dark twilight that allowed him to see the outlines and shapes of who was fighting as well as the glint of weaponry.

Four silhouettes, however, were not human. Oh, they were vaguely human in shape but there was something off about them, something different. The head shape was wrong and their back looked almost shell-like. They were completely unlike anything he had ever seen. Were they wearing costumes or something?

No one attacked him, probably thinking he couldn't see them but he felt the air shift nearby as one of the strange ones moved by him. "What _are_ you guys?" Without thinking, he reached out and touched whoever was passing him. While he felt cloth as he expected, his fingers also encountered skin that was almost scaly in texture, cool to the touch and almost reptilian. He felt the other still under his fingertips. Sam whispered aloud without realizing it, "What are _you?_" The other flinched away from him at the question.

Blue and red lights lit up the night. Someone had called the cops. His rescuers withdrew as quickly and quietly as they came; leaving the gang members either knocked out or tied up. Changing his eyes back to normal, Sam called out to their retreating forms, "Uh…whoever you are thanks for the help."

"You're welcome!" A cheerful voice called back, sounding absurdly young, followed by the sound of a smack, "Ow!"

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"What was that for Leo?" Michelangelo whined to his older brother as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Ninja strike hard and fade away, _**silently**_." Leonardo stated annoyed as he lifted a manhole cover.

"I was being polite!"

As Mikey and Leo began bickering and Raphael took Mikey's side just to annoy their eldest brother, Donatello hung back for the group as they headed home, thinking about his own encounter. Unconsciously, his fingers trailed over the path another set of fingers had traveled. While he freely admitted that he wasn't quite the fighter his brothers were, he liked to think he was more skilled at evasion. However, if that had been an attack, he never would have seen it coming, let alone be able to doge. Perhaps since the gesture _hadn't_ been aggressive was the reason he had missed it until it was too late. The contact had been so surprising, so gentle; he had stilled without meaning to. As far as he could remember, he'd had never been touched by a human without violence, especially not on the face.

It had been….interesting.

"_What __**are**__ you guys?...What are __**you?**__" _

There had been others who'd ask versions of that same question in various ways, a constant reminder that he and his brothers were _not_ human, could never _be_ human that he'd gotten use too. Nevertheless, something about this time bothered him. Maybe because it hadn't been hissed, snarled or yelped, there hadn't been any fear or disgust in the voice that asked it, only curiosity that surprised him….

"Relax, Fearless." Raphael snarled back at something Leo had said, "It wasn't as if anyone saw us."

Realization hit Donatello like a lightening bolt and he berated himself for not seeing it sooner. The guy they were rescuing had asked the question _before_ he had touch Donatello. The more he thought about it, the more he realize the guy hadn't been staring blindly into the darkness as the gang members had but tracking their movement as if he _could_ see them. Donatello considered informing his brothers about his observations but saw no need to say anything right _**now **_and add to the amount of training Leo was going to insist they do for Mikey's need to be polite.

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Author notes:

I hope you enjoyed it!

-BlueLunacy


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